


That Damned Mustache

by noleftturnx



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noleftturnx/pseuds/noleftturnx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I basically ripped off one of my favourite CSI GSR scenes. Written for the Gabby Forum's Haitus Creative Drive Week 1 "Ending".</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Damned Mustache

**Author's Note:**

> Written June 1, 2010  
> Spoilers: Beginning of Season 4  
> I was going to add more, but I was reaching that point where I didn't know where to take it. Sorry if it feels abrupt in its ending.

She was waiting for him when he got home. Tools for the forthcoming job lined up on the counter, glinting in the harsh lighting. He'd avoided this for weeks. Compromise had apparently failed.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it over the shower bar until they were finished and he could hang it back in his closet. He thought of ditching the polo, but that was too much work at this stage. He met her impatient look with a disgruntled one of his own, but obediently sat on the closed toilet seat in front of her.

She was enjoying this entirely too much for his tastes. A bit of a maniacal gleam lit her eyes as she picked up the can of shaving cream and approached him. He watched her intently as she covered his lower face with the fluffy white substance. When she put down the can and reached for the straight razor instead of his normal one, he arched a brow in her direction.

Her voice was husky when she asked, "Do you trust me?"

If it was anyone else, the answer would've been 'No'. Not that he'd ever allow himself to be in this particular position with anyone else. But this was Abby. "Just get on with it," he chided.

She used slow, even strokes, starting with his jaw and removing the day's stubble, before moving in towards her true target. With every rasp of the razor over his skin, Abby slowly removed his mustache. When she was finished, Abby wiped his face with a warm, damp cloth and stood back to admire her work.


End file.
